I Am Not Resigned
by Mordreds Girl
Summary: Her last moments in Life are spent screaming and in agonizing pain. Her first moments in Death are just spent screaming. Season 1 AU.


Guess who's decided to post all the rest of her Pydia stuff here?

XXX

Her last moments in Life are spent screaming and in agonizing pain.

Her first moments in Death are just spent screaming.

They die down though as Lydia looks around. The place she's in is a burnt and ruined wreck. For a moment all she knows is cognitive dissonance, she knows and doesn't know this place. The feeling doesn't go away but it does lessen as she whispers her way through what once was a house.

There are mirrors she doesn't appear in, walls she walks straight through, and things she can't touch. Though in trying to touch things she notices something off, and it's not the fact she's transparent. Around her left middle finger is a thin string of twine, fading into nothing a few inches from her. She frowns as she inspects it; it thrums as her right hand brushes it, as solid as the rest of her and if she moves it moves too, always pointing towards the same thing. Part of her wants to tug it, to see who or what is on the other side.

_One thing at a time_, she reminds herself. More important right now is her apparent ghost status and why she's in a place she's never been too, but feels she knows.

Out of curiosity she walks out the front door. She doesn't know it she's relieved or not when all she sees is the same forest she'd seen inside. There's still a kernel of frustration in her at the fact she's here for some reason, and not her own house or the lacrosse field (haunting the field for all eternity would definitely be a fate worse than death though). Not that this place is much better; as she turns around to go back in she sees double for a moment. The house as it is, and the house as it was; a beautiful old three-story Victorian in cream and green.

She starts to take the step to go back in, but _howling_ stops her. The initial howl is far away and sounds strange to her ears, like a sound no real animal would make. But the response is surprisingly near and sounds disturbingly like something out of a nature documentary.

Nagging curiosity has her wandering around a bit to try and find where the sound came from. If she'd still been alive she'd've tripped right over the grate; as it was she just passed right through it and into the tunnel. Feeling like she has nothing better to do she walks down the hallway, the first few doors her head goes through hold nothing behind them, but she gapes a little at what's behind the large warehouse style door.

There's a man. . .thing chained to the far wall. His eyes are electric blue and there are fangs. . .and for a moment all she can see is the man who attacked her on the field. . .a _sniffing_ noise is what manages to pull her out of it of all things. The chained man's head is moving back and forth, nostrils continuously flaring as if he smells something strange. For a brief moment she wonders if it's her he senses.

She can see his frustration grow when he can't pinpoint whatever it is he's sensing. Running footsteps distract them both. The door opens and _Scott_? is on the other side, looking as. . .hairy as the other one. Scott rushes towards the chained one and starts trying to break him out. "You alright?"

The guy's eyes shift from bright blue to sage green. "Yeah." His head shoots up and his eyes are bright blue again, he. . ._chuffs_ at Scott, who blinks in surprise then back off into a corner to hide. More footsteps start echoing down the tunnel.

At least she doesn't recognize the guy who comes through this time. Scott jumps the guy before he can start whaling on the not-really-chained-anymore other.

With nothing better to do she follows the two of them up and out of the tunnels. Only to be met by more people. Allison and her aunt included among them.

Then _something_ comes out of the woods and starts batting people around like they're nothing. Whatever it is is moving too fast for her to get a good look at it, but something niggling in the back of her mind says she's seen it before.

It grabs Allison's aunt, Kate her mind supplies, and drags her back into the ruin of a house. "No!" Allison races in after them and so does Lydia.

There's no monster anymore, just a devilishly handsome man with his hand around Kate's throat.

For a moment all she feels is fear at seeing him again. His words barely penetrate her cloudy mind but what she does hear doesn't rouse any pity.

Blood flies everywhere as he claws (so she didn't imagine them) out Kate Argent's throat. The man's smile as her body drops to the floor has terror trying to claw it's way out of Lydia's throat. "I don't think she sounded sorry enough."

He charges at Allison and Lydia _screams_.

That's her friend and he won't fucking touch her.

Amazingly he goes flying straight through a decrepit wall and back outside. She and Allison rush the front door, Allison managing to get it open just as Jackson's Porche pulls up to the house.

A snarl draws Lydia's attention slightly to the right where _he_ and the guy from the tunnels are fighting, both looking more animal than human, and she wonders what horror movie she somehow stumbled into in the past twelve hours.

"Derek get down!" Stiles' voice breaks the relative silence and the smaller of the two monsters breaks away.

_Him_, the real monster, turns and out of the corner of her eye she sees Jackson heft something in his hand. "This is for Lydia you bastard."

She feels a flash of affection for Jackson as a beaker goes flying towards the monster. Though it dies away soon replaced by horror when she notices the twine again. It doesn't end a few inches from her anymore, it continues on, ending at _him_.

Lydia screams again. He shakes his head as if startled and _looks_ at her. The beaker falls uselessly to the ground and shatters. He snarls, swats once more at Derek, then disappears back into the forest. She collapses to the ground the last thing she sees before the world goes dark is Stiles and Allison hunched over Scott's prone body.

000

Her eyes open again to a world dimly lit by false dawn. Everyone's gone even, she notices when she enters the house again, Kate's body. Lydia hates how shaky and uncertain she feels.

A floorboard behind her creaks and she whirls around to see _him_ smiling at her. "Hello Lydia."

She wants to demand he explain how he knows her name but it gets caught up in her throat, but a different question does manage to escape. "You can see me?"

"Of course," he raises his own left hand showing his own ring of twine. He steps forward and she steps back. He sighs, "I didn't want it to go this way you know. You were supposed to survive. Though you still managed to save me, for which I'm very grateful." Step forward, step back.

Now she's backed against a wall and she shifts slightly to step through it but nothing happens. She looks back at him to see he's got a hold on the twine between them. He gives a small tug and she steps forward.

Lydia struggles to get away, but it's apparently useless; he still keeps reeling her in like a fish. When she's standing in front of him he finally lets go and she tries to scramble away, but then he grabs her _arm_. "Don't be like that Lydia, I"m only trying to help."

She can't find it in her to come back with a snappy reply, he's _touching_ her.

"Lydia I can't hurt you even if I wanted to, you're dead." She watches as one of his fingers on the hand holding her grows a claw and digs it into her 'skin'.

It feels weird; there is and isn't pain. But she _can _feel his claw in her arm and she squirms in discomfort. The claw retracts and something in her loosens in relief. Finally she finds her voice again. "What do you want?"

He smiles. "I just want to help you, to show you my gratitude for saving my life." His other arm wraps around her waist and pulls her close. "Would you like to live again? It would take a while but I could give you your flesh and blood and bones back. Maybe this time my mark would even take, turn you into one of us." He swirls her around like they're dancing. "What do you think Lydia? Do you want that?"

Everything feels hazy and soft, like she's somehow gotten drunk. She leans her head against his vaguely warm shoulder, because right now he's the only steady thing in a whirlwind world. There's a gentle pressure as he noses at her hairline. His chest is rumbling and it echos through her. A thumb brushes her cheek. "Let me take care of you Lydia." His voice is as rumbly as his chest and all she can think is _yes, of course_.

All that escapes her is a soft sighing 'yes'.


End file.
